Among the biggest-grossing films in America in February 2002 were a war drama about American troops in Somalia ("Black Hawk Down"), an Arnold Schwarzenegger action movie ("Collateral Damage"), and a future Oscar winner about a brilliant mathematician struggling with schizophrenia ("A Beautiful Mind").
But none of these films that month. That title went to "John Q.," a movie about health insurance.
Or, more precisely, a story about a desperate father -- played by Denzel Washington -- who takes a hospital emergency room hostage at gunpoint when his HMO refuses to cover a heart transplant for his young son.
John Q.'s violent quest for justice was, of course, fictional. And even in the film, no one ends up dead.
Tragically, that wasn't the case on the streets of New York City on December 4 when a gunman fatally shot Brian Thompson, CEO of health insurance giant UnitedHealthcare.
But there was nothing new about the anger at health insurers that Thompson's shooting unleashed online -- and which suspect Luigi Mangione expressed in a document .
In fact, eruptions of public rage have shadowed the American healthcare system for decades.
In the late 1990s and early 2000s, as "John Q." was hitting movie screens, Americans were revolting against HMOs, whose practice of denying care to plan members to pad their bottom lines made them public enemy No. 1.
Just a few years later, health insurers stoked new ire for after people were diagnosed with expensive illnesses like cancer. More recently, insurers' widening use of cumbersome prior authorization procedures that slow patients' access to care has provoked yet another round of fury.
The cycle of outrage periodically turns on others in the healthcare industry as well. and aggressive collection tactics, such as garnishing patients' wages, are in hospitals and other medical providers.
And drug companies -- perennial poster children for greed and profiteering -- have enraged Americans since at least the 1950s, when new "wonder drugs" like steroids were fueling a growing industry.
When Sen. Estes Kefauver, a Tennessee Democrat who had led an investigation of the Mafia, in 1959 to probe high prescription prices, his committee received mountains of mail from Americans who reported being fleeced by drugmakers. One retired rail worker told of having to spend more than a third of his retirement income on medicines for himself and his wife.
All this public outcry has occasionally sparked change. President Barack Obama and congressional Democrats leveraged anger at in California to get the Affordable Care Act over the finish line in 2010, a landmark achievement that expanded health coverage to millions of Americans.
But more often, cycles of rage have been so much sound and fury, producing only modest reforms. In some cases, public anger has yielded more headaches for patients.
The HMO backlash in the late 1990s and early 2000s, for example, prompted employers -- from whom about half of Americans get their health coverage -- to . Many employers saw these plans as a way to hold down costs if they couldn't limit patients' choice of medical providers through HMOs. These deductibles, which can reach thousands of dollars a year, are driving tens of millions of Americans into debt.
To many on the left who have long argued for a single-payer, government-run health system, the obstacle to more meaningful relief has been the political power of the same industries -- health insurers, drug companies, hospitals -- that fuel patient anger.
These industries have indeed proven adept at resisting change that threatened their bottom lines. They've also benefited from a paradox in how Americans think about their healthcare.
Patients may get angry. They may even lose faith in the system. This year, quality fell to the lowest point since Gallup began asking about it in 2001, with 44% of Americans rating quality as excellent or good, down from a high of 62%.
Yet more than 70% said their own healthcare is excellent or good.
There is much debate about what accounts for this paradox. Are Americans just grateful to have the health protections they do? Are they satisfied because most don't have to use the healthcare system on a regular basis? Do they simply like their doctor, in the way that voters routinely say they like their own member of Congress but hate Washington politicians? Or do they worry that no matter how frustrating the current system can be, any change risks making the situation worse?
The answer is probably a bit of all of this. Together, such sentiments represent a major challenge for those who hope the current wave of anger at health insurers will drive big improvements.
Could that change? Maybe. These are volatile and unpredictable political times. And the pressure of big medical bills is real. Medical debt, in particular, is exacting a fearsome toll on millions of Americans, ' reporting has shown.
But to drive change, advocates looking to harness public anger at the healthcare industry probably need to rethink their favored solutions. Old ideas like "Medicare for All," long cherished on the left, or a deregulated healthcare market, long championed by the right, haven't swayed Americans so far, no matter how angry they've been.
I don't know when we'll see meaningful alternatives. One thing that's almost certainly on the way: Hollywood's spin on the death of a health insurance executive gunned down in Midtown Manhattan.
is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF -- an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about .